


Last Time I Tried To Rock Your World

by bitterisalwaysbetter



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe-soulmates, English translation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Georgie is still dead, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn With Plot, The Losers Club Love Each Other (IT), Title Inspired by a Song, Top Stan, We Die Like Men, bottom bill, im so happy that’s a tag, implied benverly, pennywise is a thing, there’s not enough of that :(, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterisalwaysbetter/pseuds/bitterisalwaysbetter
Summary: He tried to convince himself he felt this way because Bill was his best friend. But fleeting glances, a strange tingling in his chest at the sight of him and, finally, some, ahem, less than savory dreams of which Bill should definitely not have been in, said more than words ever could about how Stan felt for Bill.And he’d have to come to terms with the fact that he was head over heels in love with Bill Denbrough.***This fic is an English translation of the Russian work, “Cherries with cinnamon flavor” by Sasha_Aley. All credit goes to her :)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Last Time I Tried To Rock Your World

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is my first stenbrough fic because 1) there’s not enough stenbrough fanfiction, and 2) there’s not enough bottom Bill fanfiction.  
> In this, they're all juniors in high school.  
> I used google translate to translate this from Russian to English. I tried to keep it as close to the original as possible but I did have to switch somethings up bc they didn’t translate very well.
> 
> The title of this fic is inspired by the song, “Last Time I Tried To Rock Your World,” by Mindless Self Indulgence. pls check them out they’re my fav band of All Time

Stanley Uris knows exactly what hit him. He realized it a couple of years ago when the members of the Losers Club were fourteen and fifteen, respectively. 

When Beverly and Bill returned to Derry (Bev from Portland and Bill from Bangor) three years after Pennywise, Bill began spending most of his time with her. Of course, Stan knew that Bill was in love with their mutual friend, had been for quite a while in fact, and at first he accepted this. But then something changed.

He tried to convince himself he felt this way because Bill was his best friend. But fleeting glances, a strange tingling in his chest at the sight of him and, finally, some, ahem,  _ less than savory  _ _dreams_ of which Bill should definitely not have been in, said more than words ever could about how Stan felt for Bill.

And he’d have to come to terms with the fact that he was head over heels in love with Bill Denbrough.

In his most cherished dreams, he imagined hugging Bill, burrowing his nose into his hair, and the other widening his eyes in surprise, suddenly realizing that Stanley Uris, his best friend, was something more than just a friend. But these were only dreams that had no connection with physical reality, and Stan perfectly understood this.

Two years have passed since then and now they’re juniors at Derry High School. Everything has changed. And so has the Losers Club.

Beverly is one of the most popular girls at school, whose attention boys fight for like wild lions fighting over a fresh zebra carcass. Richie switched his huge thick glasses out for thin framed ones and ended up being the school’s resident heartbreaker with his wild black curls and tall stature. Mike became the captain of the school’s football team, and couple that with the several hours he worked on the farm everyday, and he was quite the looker as well. Eddie had a small growth spurt in freshman year (but was still much shorter than the rest of the boys in the Losers Club, although he had three inches on Bev) and was in the student council as well as on the track team.

Ben had become almost unrecognizable compared to his early middle school days. Years of intense exercise caused him to shave off about a dozen kilograms which definitely gave him a lot of attention from girls at school, specifically Bev. This made Stan feel some small satisfaction (although he’d never admit it) because now Beverly Marsh walked with Ben to school, not Bill.

Perhaps only Bill and Stan had changed little during this time of acne and growth spurts. Bill still stuttered like a blushing schoolgirl, despite his rigorous speech therapy and Stan was still hopelessly in love with Bill, despite desperately trying to convince himself he wasn’t.

But in recent weeks, still casting secret glances at Bill, Stan clearly and bitterly started to understand that, in the end, he will find mournful disappointment in the fact that they will never be together. Because, to Bill, Stan is just his best friend. He sincerely tries to stop loving him, (he really does!) seemingly dating a new girl each week just to forget about his feelings towards Bill. But he feels absolutely nothing with them.

He doesn’t think about Margaret, Cassie, Julia, or anyone else at night, he only thinks about Bill. He recalls his smile, his soft straight auburn hair, smelling of cherries and fresh flowers- his favorite smells, not because he thought Bill was his soul mate, but because Stan was in love with him. As soon as Bill’s familiar scent would hit his nose, he’d feel slightly dizzy and turn pink, knowing he’d be just around the corner.

Of all his friends, only Richie knew about his strange and obviously unfriendly feelings for the leader of their Club, dropping vulgar jokes about it any chance he got (“You know, Stan, now that Bev’s not standing in your way, when will you grow a pair and drag our sweet, innocent Billy into your bed?").

One time, when the Losers were hanging out at Ben’s house after school, Stan had followed Richie outside for a smoke break for a “serious, man-to-man talk.” After a lull in their conversation, Richie groaned, “When are you gonna hook up with Bill already? I’m so tired of seeing you dance around him like those weird birds on the National Geographic Channel that dance around their mates before they fuck.”

Stan muttered in exasperation back to him: “Once you finally get with Eddie, because I'm tired of watching you dance around him too." 

After these words, Richie bit his tongue and was mostly silent for the rest of the evening, which amazed all his friends.

“Wow, I feel like I can actually hear my thoughts now,” Eddie joked. Everybody laughed. Richie didn’t even joke about his mom in return like he usually would, just let out a small chuckle.

However, the next day, Bill and Mike found them shamelessly making out in Richie’s room when they came over to work on a history project. Both boys blushed and tried pretending like they hadn’t just seen Richie and Eddie sticking their tongues down each other’s throats. But Richie didn’t hide anything, declaring at once: "Yes, we’re fucking. And what’s new?”

Eddie blushed profusely at Richie’s vulgar statement and replied defensively, “We are not sleeping together! We’re just kissing, that’s all!”

“Well, we’re not sleeping together yet,” Richie added under his breath, making his newfound boyfriend furious. Bill and Mike tried not to laugh at the pissed-off expression on Eddie’s face as Richie retold the story to everyone else a week later at the quarry.

***

Bill is not at school for the third day in a row. Stan thinks about visiting him at home, and seeing what’s wrong, but then drives these thoughts away. The last time Stan went to Bill’s house—six or seven days ago—they were preparing for their math test, sitting on the bed in the latter’s room. An unexpected thought suddenly flashed through Stan’s head as he was trying to discreetly look at Bill.

Bill had moved a little closer to his stack of spread out notebooks and a ray of light seeping through the window fell onto his neck. Stan thought: _what does his skin taste like?_ He wanted to ignore all these bullshit formulas and equations and move closer to Bill, close enough so he could lick the exposed part of his neck, slide his shirt down his shoulder, gently press him into the bed, and then...

And then Stan seemed to wake up from his fantasy, abruptly jumping up from his place. Bill looked at him in surprise, and Stan, said something along the lines of, “I just remembered that I needed to go, my dad wants me home...” before bolting out of the Denbrough house. As soon he was outside, he pressed his hands to his burning face, exhaling in shock. He could feel the telltale signs of blood rushing down south and managed to control himself before he tented his pants in front of the whole neighborhood.

And now he hesitates, deciding whether to go over to Bill’s or not.

“Hey Stanley-the-Manley!” Richie suddenly flies into him, almost knocking him down, and interrupts his thoughts. After a couple of seconds, Eddie appears next to him, grumbling under his breath about how Richie is a walking disaster.

“What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you should be at Bill’s right now?” Richie asked.

“What?” Stanley stopped in the middle of the road, looking at his friend in confusion.

Usually Richie would pull some new practical joke on Stan every week which is why he sometimes found it hard to believe him. But apparently, this time Richie is more serious than ever.

“Are you deaf or something?” Richie is almost offended and, folding his palms as a mouthpiece, brings them to Stan's ear, repeating loudly and distinctly: “Why the hell are you, Stanley Uris, not with Bill right now, if he’s waiting for you?”

Stan pulls away from Richie, grimacing and rubbing his ear. Eddie, in turn, yanks the lanky boy by the sleeve, and, it seems, for the millionth time that week, scolds him to behave like a normal person, which Richie just brushes aside.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Stan asked, now irritated.

Richie shrugs. “Don’t you two usually have some cute little study date at Bill’s on Fridays or whatever? Bill asked me to tell you to haul ass over there.”

“Oh, yeah. That,” Stan said unenthusiastically. He’d kind of forgotten about it and secretly hoped Bill had forgotten too but if he’d sent Richie to wrestle Stan back to his house, he assumed he most likely hadn’t.

“And if I were you, I’d drop by the pharmacy on the way there and buy a pack of condoms,” he adds, lowering his voice, and raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively. Eddie, clearly not up to date with what was going on in Stan’s personal life, raises  his eyebrows in surprise, and Stan feels the sudden urge to impale Richie’s asshole head on a skewer.

But instead, he rolls his eyes and says, ”Shut up Richie. I really don’t think you have any room to talk.“ Stan threw a pointed look Eddie’s way with a smirk on his face.

“Okay, I’ll shut up, I’ll shut up! Now go to your beloved already! I’m sure he misses your warm embrace!” With a wink, Richie starts back up the road, already talking to Eddie, who hisses something at him angrily, but allows himself to be taken away, with Richie’s arm slung over his shoulder. Stan stares after them, frowning.

Go to Bill? Or don’t go? On one hand, Stan realizes that if he doesn’t go, it’ll be a real asshole move—maybe Bill needs his help with homework? And he wouldn’t have any real sort of excuse to give Bill as to why he didn’t show. But on the other hand, he also understands that if he is left alone with the other boy, his thoughts will almost certainly end up going in the wrong direction. After hesitating for a minute, Stan mustered up his courage and whatever sense of dignity he had left in him, and headed for Bill's house.  _ Whatever happens, _ he decides,  _ I can’t avoid Bill for the rest of my life. _

***

The door to Bill’s house is unlocked as Stan enters. The ground floor is quiet and he doesn’t see anyone, so Stan takes off his shoes in the hallway and pads up the stairs to the second floor, where Bill’s room is. It seems to be a normal day as always at the Denbrough house, but at some subconscious level, he feels that the atmosphere in the house has strangely changed. He hesitates in front of his friend’s bedroom, then pushes the door open and enters.

Bill was sat on the bed, a book in his hands and legs crossed, with his back resting against a pillow. Stan coughed softly, causing him to flinch and sit upright.

“O-oh, h-h-h-hey Stan.” Bill smiles at him. Stan sits down next to him on the bed, patting his friend on the head a couple times. Every day, it gets more and more difficult for Stan to act as if nothing is happening to him, as if his heart is not twisting into a knot at the mere sight of Bill. “I th-thought y-you weren’t coming. You’re usually nuh-not late so I ss-s-sent Richie after you.”

“Why didn’t you go to school?” Stan asks, trying to subtly change the subject. Bill yawns, avoiding the question, and then, completely unexpectedly puts his head on his shoulder, making Stan turn red from head to toe. 

_ Oh God, Bill what are you doing to me? _ Stan thinks in despair, but he doesn’t move to shift Bill’s head off his shoulder. He rarely had the chance to get close to Bill nowadays, even though they were best friends. He’d take anything at this point.

Bill used to get up close and personal with all the Losers (except when they were uncomfortable with it of course) but after what happened with Georgie and Pennywise, he suddenly stopped being so affectionate.

“Hey, did something happen?” Stan asked gently.

“Yeah, I guh-guh-guess you cuh-cuh-cuh-could say that...” Bill muttered softly, pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. Stan’s brow furrowed at this statement.

“W-well, fuh-fuh-firstly, I muh-muh-muh-missed you.” Another a tight knot somewhere inside Stan coils, and the silly thought of butterflies in his stomach came to mind. “And suh-secondly, w-w-we need t-t-to talk.”

And here, Stan is seized with paranoia. For a split second, thoughts like “does he know?” flash through his head, but he immediately discards them. He's just paranoid, simply paranoid.

“Uh, about what?” Stan asks, nervously, pulling away from Bill and thanking God that he has a naturally straight face so that his anxiety isn’t reflected on his face right now. Bill licks his lips, seeming nervous as well. He knows he shouldn’t, but Stan finds it hot and has to look away before he spontaneously combusts.

Somewhere outside, the noise of a car revving up was heard, and Bill exhaled, settling down closer to Stan. 

“Bill, you're scaring me now.”

Bill listened to the noise outside the window, and when the car finally drove away, he nodded to himself and licked his lips again in nervous excitement (Stan again visits the thought that this is  very  hot). He shuffles even closer, and then opens his mouth.

“I-I duh-duh-don’t n-n-n-know how to talk about th-th-th-th...” Bill stops his sentence completely and tries to start over. Stan looks at him carefully, trying to be considerate about Bill’s stutter but also desperately wanting him to spit out whatever the hell was making them both so nervous. Bill covers his eyes for a split second, takes a deep breath, and then, finally collecting his thoughts, he blurts out without hesitation or stuttering, “Tell me, Stan, honestly: do you feel something for me?”

Stan feels as if he’s in one of those dreams that you have right before you fall asleep and you feel like you’re falling and you wake up right before you hit the ground. Except this time, Stan didn’t wake up. No, he was living in some sort of hellish nightmare right now. Cold goosebumps run down his spine and he felt his tongue go numb, drying out in his mouth. There is only one thought in Stan’s head:  _ He guessed, he find out, was I too obvious? _ But soon another thought came to mind:  _ Did Richie tell him everything? _

“How did you know?” Stan tries to speak calmly and even squeezes a dry laugh out of himself. Bill looks serious, almost distant, but the red blush on his cheeks indicates something else. He looks down at his hands folded in his lap.

“I met my soulmate yesterday,” He whispers and these five words hurt Stan like five bullets fired from a pistol at point blank range.

He can’t tell if he’s even breathing anymore, he just looks at Bill and doesn’t understand how his own feelings are related to his friend’s soulmate? But, apparently, Bill decides that he hasn’t hurt Stan enough today and adds quietly, looking away, “It’s V-Victor. Victor Criss.”

Stan’s heart is breaking apart. Is Bill, gentle Bill, strong Bill,  _ his  _ Bill, the soulmate of one of the henchmen of the Bowers gang?

He does not believe what was said, does not  want  to believe. The idea that someone other than Stan can touch Bill like he so desperately wants, especially someone who doesn’t even deserve to, makes Stan see red. His hands clench into fists and he swallows nervously. He so badly wants to press Bill against himself and scream to the whole world that he won’t give him to anyone...only, Stan can’t do that. He was just a friend after all.

Just a friend.

“I huh-huh-heard,” Bill continues, and his words seemed to reach Stan as if they were passing through a thick layer of cotton wool, “th-th-that y-y-y-you can always ssss-s-switch out yuh-your soulmate with suh-huh-omeone that you h-have a huh-huh-higher bond w-with.”

“I heard about that too,” Stan said blankly. He didn’t want to hear about the boy or girl Bill would get paired up with. He didn’t want to hear Bill gushing over them, going on dates with them,  being in love  with them. Stan knew he’d be too jealous to even pretend that he was happy for Bill and his soulmate. Although Stan had gotten stronger throughout the years, especially after fighting off Pennywise with his friends, he was still human, and therefore, still weak. No matter how strong he was, he could never be invincible.

“I a-also heard that buh-buh-buh-buh-best friends often appear,” Bill begins uncertainly. Stan meets his eyes at this. “Y-y-you know, a-as soulmates.”

Stan is silent. He’s staring at Bill intently, and Bill gets flustered at the look he gives him. His pupils bounce comically around the room, trying to look anywhere but Stan.

“Do you know how this happens?” Stan asks, trying not to show his increasing excitement. Could it be? “How it’s... interrupted?”

Bill turns redder and nods. Stan pauses and asks again, “And you want me and you to...” He trails off.

“I-I’d rather huh-have it b-b-b-be you, Stan,” Bill says. The knot inside Stan tightens more. Bill is ready to lie under his best friend than to be the soulmate of the man he hates.

And it seems like Stan should be glad, because all his dreams, all his dreams about Bill Denbrough are about to become reality, but it only brings bitterness. Bill is just desperate, and this is pushing him to do something crazy. Bill doesn't like Stan in that way, he just wants to get rid of his, admittedly less-than-ideal soulmate.

“You do understand,” Stan says hoarsely as if he just got punched in the gut, “what that means? Because you can’t just—you can’t just rush into things like this, Bill.”

“Yes, I understand, I understand everything!” Bill blurts out in annoyance, not once stuttering. “You th-th-think I’ve been sss-suh-staying home, staying away fr-fr-fr-fr-from you guh-guys f-f-f-for the hell of it?! I know what will happen to me! I know!” He almost screams. “B-But I hate it...I can’t even ih-imagine him touching me! S-s-so, yes, I-I know w-w-w-what I’m getting ih-ih-into. The f-fact that I asked y-y-you about feelings and all that...I’m nuh-nuh-not an i-i-i-idiot. And not b-blind. I see huh-huh-how you look at me when y-you think I duh-duh-don’t notice. And R-Richie talks so loud, I’m sss-surprised the wh-wh-whole town hasn’t huh-heard yet.”

Stan burns red with embarrassment after Bill finishes his rant but the other boy doesn’t seem to notice. He moves closer to his friend and hesitantly takes his palms in his. They sit like this for about a minute, and this single minute for Stan is like torture. Bill knows about his feelings. Bill  knows. Stan wants to run away, to hide somewhere deep in the Barrens, where no one will find him. He tries to get up, but Bill only squeezes his palms tightly in his own, not allowing him to escape.

And then Bill timidly leans forward into Stan and connects their lips together. His hand rises slowly and pulls on the collar of Stan’s shirt to bring them closer together. Stan can't believe it. He can’t believe he’s sitting on Bill’s bed, holding his hand while they kiss. It feels like something from a dream. Bill pulls away for a split second to breathe. Stan takes this opportunity to say something.

“Bill—“

“J-just shut up, S-Stan.”

Bill unbuttons Stan's shirt with trembling fingers and lets Stan pull it off himself. Biting his lip, Bill pulls off his sweater as well. And without giving himself a minute to think, he rises a little, getting on his knees and grabbing Stan’s face with his palms as he kisses for real this time, his lips parted against Stan’s hot mouth.

It seems to Stan that he is losing his mind. Bill kisses greedily and wet, almost as if he believes he’ll never get to do this again with him. Stan moves even closer, and now there is almost no distance between their bodies. Bill pulls away for breath again and presses his forehead against Stan’s. He himself does not believe in what he is doing. His hands seem to live a separate life: they get confused in naughty curls, slide down his neck and stop on Stan’s chest, feeling a frantic heartbeat underneath. Bill's heart beats no weaker.

He pokes his nose into Stan’s shoulder and hugs, squeezes more and more tightly, arms in an almost vice-like grip around his shoulders. Stan hugs him back and keeps one hand on the small of Bill’s back and the other smoothes down the hair on the back of his head. Bill touches his collarbone with his lips, clumsily sucking on one spot, and it finally clicks for Stan. This is  real.  This singular thought makes him arch his neck up slightly and Bill, encouraged by such a reaction, rises with kisses up his neck, grabbing his earlobe between his lips.

Stan swallows, trying to calm the dancing stars underneath his eyelids. He unconsciously leans back, giving Bill more space for caresses...and, forgetting that he was sitting on the edge, falls from the bed to the floor, carrying Bill along with him.

“Fuck!” he gasps out of shock, crashing his back into the carpet, which does not soften the blow in any way at all. Bill fell on top of him, crying out in surprise but immediately getting up, sitting down on Stan's hips, and, in spite of himself, began to laugh, only the laugh that came out was shaky and nervous and ended almost as soon as it started.

They look into each other’s eyes, then Bill slowly, runs his hand over Stan’s body, counts his ribs underneath his fingers with a deep breath, glides his hand along Stan’s Adam's apple and, finally, touches his nervous lips, penetrating his mouth a little.

“You're amazing,” Bill says quietly, stroking his cheekbones with his fingers. Stan rises on his elbows, opens his mouth to say something, but Bill touches his lips with his index finger, urging him to remain silent. He bites his lip and with trembling hands, tries to unfasten the belt on Stan's trousers.

Stan’s stomach is practically doing somersaults inside him as he watches Bill’s actions becoming more and more desperate. He loved it madly, but it wasn’t even 5pm yet, and Bill’s parents were at home and could at any moment come into the room and find their son and his friend in a  very  compromising position. There’d be no getting out of that particular situation, that’s for sure.

“Bill...” Stan calls out, but he doesn't even hear him, already trying to pull off Stan’s trousers with a determined look in his eyes. 

“Bill, damn it, stop!”

And Bill stops. He looks straight into Stan's eyes, and Stan realizes (not for the first time that afternoon) that the the boy in front of him is damn handsome and damn hot.

Hair, always neatly combed, now stuck out in all directions, cheeks burned with a feverish blush and his eyes shone excitedly. Stan clearly understands that he is stepping on a fine line, he wants it, insanely wants it, but the remnants of common sense left in his mind still hold back the desire to pounce on Bill here and now.

“W-why?” Bill exhales, and, damn it, his voice is so breathless and sexy that Stan almost forgets that he shouldn’t be doing this. Again.

“Just wait a minute. Your parents are home and—“

“They l-left, didn’t y-y-you hear the noise of the mm-m-motor?” Bill blushes even more. “O-or do you th-th-think that I'm so s-s-s-s-stupid that I’ll have s-s-sex when they’re at h-home?”

“So you knew they wouldn't be here?”  That’s why he wanted me to come over? thinks Stan.

“Stanley Uris, y-you are sss-such a moron that I want to buh-buh-bash my huh-huh-huh-head against a wall!Get y-your head out of your a-a-a-a-ass and start th-th-thinking! There is no s-s-soulmate! There is n-n Vi-vi-victor, idiot! There is o-only you! Ih-it w-w-was all f-f-f-fake! O-Or do y-you really think I-I-I ss-suddenly thought, ‘Oh, muh-maybe I’ll drag m-m-my best ffffff-friend ih-into bed? What a g-great idea!’” Bill’s stutter was worst when he was angry or embarrassed and he was definitely both of those right now.

And Stan’s brain was still finding it hard to comprehend Bill’s words because it was difficult to digest what he heard, very difficult.

“Did you know that I’m in love with you?” He asks in a surprisingly calm tone. Bill nods. “How long?”

“About a m-month or two,” he says reluctantly. Stan, now equally as embarrassed as Bill, fell back onto the carpet, looking at the ceiling. “B-But I w-w-wouldn’t have known anything if Richie h-hadn’t talked.”

“God, I’m going to tear his tongue out,” Stan says, only half-jokingly, and Bill lets out a small laugh at that. “And what did he say?”

“U-um. He suh-said that y-y-you want to fff-fuck me.” Stan outwardly winces at that.  _ Well shit. Since we’re laying it all out on the table, I guess,  _ he thinks.

“You know, the mood has kinda disappeared now. Especially after talking about Richie,” Stan exhales, a bit disappointed, and sits up on the carpet, with Bill on his lap still. As soon as he starts reaching for the zipper on his trousers, Bill intercepts his hand and smacks it away.

“Mm-maybe for yuh-you.”

Stan looks at Bill and Bill stares back intently, his eyes like two brown whirlpools in which Stan feels hopelessly drowned. Bill squeezes Stan's hand in his own, and he feels him tense beneath him. He knows Bill is asking him a question. They could keep going or they could stop. Maybe this would happen again or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe they’d accept that they were soulmates or they’d remain friends. But that wouldn’t be any sort of real friendship. So, Stan softly touches Bill’s cheek, reaches forward, and pulls him in for a kiss. He moves his hands lower and puts one on the small of Bill’s back and the other lightly gripping his hip. He doesn’t dare go lower. Bill lets out a shaky breath and arches into the touch, snuggling closer to Stan.

“Wait.”

Bill looks displeased at being interrupted yet again, wishing things would move along a little faster.

“Are you sure you want to this here?” Bill raised an eyebrow, not understanding what Stan meant. “On the floor?” He elaborated, blushing.

“I-I don’t care.” Bill brushes it aside and reaches for Stan, but Stan rests his hands on his chest, preventing Bill from leaning into him.

“But it’d be more comfortable...” He begins to trail off when Bill started kissing his neck, kissing all the way down to his chest. “I don’t know how to prepare for this...”

“I-I already, u-u-um, prepared. Duh-don’t worry,” Bill exhales, leaving a fresh hickey on his skin, and Stan hears embarrassment in his voice. He unconsciously rolls his hips upward and groans loudly, immediately covering his mouth with his palm. Bill stopped his kisses when Stan did this and let out a small moan.

Stan breathes jerkily when Bill rises from his lap, walks to the window and harshly closes the heavy curtains. The only source of light in the room now was the lamp on Bill’s nightstand. It made the room seem so intimate. But even in the weak light, Stan sees that Bill is embarrassed and quickly looks away from him. Stan gets up from the carpet, staggering, almost runs into Bill, which makes them both blush even harder. Even just getting on the bed for him becomes an almost impossible task. His hands shake in a nervous tremor, anxiously anticipating Bill’s next move.

In the morning he’d sat in his English class at school, ready for another uneventful day. Richie was passing notes to him with extremely realistic drawings of dicks on them throughout the lecture while Ben had given both of them notes to copy off from afterwards since he’d been the only one paying attention. With how the day had started, Stan would have never expected himself to fall into bedwith Bill. He’d never have expected he would have all of his teenage fantasies fulfilled on this day.

“D-do you s-still want this?” Bill whispered softly, sitting down next to Stan on the bed and interlacing his fingers with his own.

“Yes,” Stan replied almost immediately. Bill smiled and moved to sit on Stan’s lap. He teasingly ground his hips against Stan’s lower half, tearing out a barely audible sigh from Stan.

Rising slightly, he pulled off his pants and then pulled Stan’s trousers down, leaving them both in just their underwear. Stan's dick was so erect that it pressed up against his ass, covered only with the thin material of his underwear.

“Just duh-don’t l-l-l-look, okay?” Bill bit his lip and reached for the nightstand, pulling out a pack of condoms from the bottom drawer.

“I don’t think I can promise that,” Stan whispered, barely able to control himself now. Bill blushed even harder and it seemed his whole body turned pink.

“T-then nuh-nuh-not as intense f-f-f-from now on. O-Otherwise, I th-th-think I’ll b-burn up.” Bill managed to let out a nervous laugh, but it was clear that he was more anxious than he’d been letting on. Stan leaned forward and started leaving light kisses on his collarbone, trying to give him some small sense of comfort.

“Can I give you a hickey?” Stan said suddenly. He was a bit embarrassed by his words, he hadn’t meant to say that. But Bill and nodded eagerly and then Stan was biting soft supple skin, sucking hard, mouth making obscene noises against Bill’s neck. Bill gasped, tangled his fingers in Stan’s hair, letting out small shaky moans. Stan felt Bill’s thighs grip his hips harder from where he was sitting on him and the added pressure against his erection made him groan.

“Mmm, S-S-Stan,” Bill moaned. Stan continued to shamelessly lick and suck on his neck and his chest. He swiped his tongue over Bill’s tight nipples. It gave him incredible pleasure to hear Bill's quiet moaning and soon enough there was a large wet spot on the front of Stan’s underwear. Bill’s seemed to be in even worse shape, the front almost completely soaked in sticky liquid that stuck to Bill’s dick.

“Mm, d-damn it, Stan, if y-y-you don’t s-s-s-stop, then I’ll fff-finish w-without you e-e-even touching me!” Bill gently pushed him away, forcing him to pull his lips off Bill’s nipple. Bill began to strip off his underwear and Stan took this as a clue to do the same. Cool air hit his dick, freed from the pressure of the fabric, and Stan took a shaky breath. His gaze slid downward, stopping at Bill's dick, but at that moment Bill gently lifted his face up to meet his eyes, hands on the sides of Stan’s head.

“I a-already told y-y-you that I was p-prepared for this,” he said breathlessly, “You don’t need to w-w-worry.” They both sat back down on the bed; Stan with his back against one of Bill’s pillows and Bill on Stan’s lap.

Stan laid a hand on his ass, squeezing, then shifts his hand further, spreading the elastic halves, and presses a finger against Bill’s hole. It feels a bit wet to the touch and slightly swollen, as if Bill had already inserted something in there previously. Stan inserts one finger and moves it around. He easily pushes a second finger up to the knuckle, but as soon as he begins to scissor his fingers inside him, Bill buries his head into his shoulder and hisses.

“Did that hurt?” Stan asked anxiously. He was about to pull his fingers out, but Bill stops him.

“J-just go on,” he says with obvious difficulty. Stan hesitates, and then Bill himself directs his hand, inserting his fingers into himself. “I-I w-w-want to do this today and I want ih-ih-it right nuh-now.” As Stan kept moving his fingers, Bill felt a heat burning low in his gut. This felt so much different than when he fingered himself. Stan’s fingers were longer than Bill’s and slightly thicker, reaching spots he couldn’t when he was by himself. Stan inserts a third finger and Bill arches his back, letting out a low whine.

“Is that good?” Stan asks, throat dry. He slowly moves his fingers inside Bill, who is almost starting to slide on them.

“Y-yeah. E-E-Especially when y-y-you—“ His eyes roll back into his head as Stan suddenly flexes his fingers and pushes them deeper inside Bill.

“Mm, a-a-again, S-S-S-Stan,” Bill moaned lewdly.

And Stan obediently repeats the action, looking fascinated, as Bill's mouth opens slightly in a barely audible moan, and his tongue passes over his lips, licking them. Stan watches every tiny change in his face when he puts his fingers in too deeply or when he spreads them too wide apart.

“P-P-Please, S-Stan,” Bill is almost crying, the reddened head of his cock rubbing against their stomachs. “I w-w-want y-you to—“ He gulps and then quietly whispers in Stan’s ear: “I-I w-want you to f-f-fuck me.”

Bill is already tearing open the condom before Stan has a chance to croak out a hoarse, “Yeah, sure, Bill.” With trembling hands, he rolls it over Stan's cock.

“You're driving me crazy,” Stan groans in his ear, gripping his hips so hard that there will most definitely be bruises there later. Bill whines a little before he can stop himself. He looks embarrassed as he presses his palms against Stan’s chest, forcing him to lie on the bed. Stan touches his chest, squeezing tight nipples between his fingers. His hands slide down and grab Bill's dick. He thumbs the slit and a large dribble of pre-cum drips down Bill’s member. Stan slowly leads his hand to the base, then raises it to the head again to see Bill’s reaction.

He looks up to see Bill panting, pupils blown so wide Stan can practically see his reflection in them. And with no warning, Bill finally raises himself up, just above the tip of Stan’s dick, and starts to slide down onto his cock. Stan grips Bill’s hips even harder and unconsciously pushes Bill down the rest of the way onto his dick. They both hiss at the sensitivity of it but after a minute or so of sitting on his dick, Bill begins to move up and down on him. Stan throws up his hips, trying to get deeper inside his body, knocking out moan after moan from Bill.

“S-s-s-stannn,” Bill moaned, rolling his hips down harder and harder. He leaned in to draw the young man into a kiss, and stopped moving to catch his breath. “M-maybe I sh-sh-should lie down? Then ih-it’ll be easier.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bill slides off his cock, lies on his back and spreads his bended knees to the sides. That image would forever be burned into Stan’s mind.

Stan sat snug between his legs, as he confidently guided his cock inside Bill. He immediately grabs his legs and hoists them around his waist, bending Bill almost in half. The delicate aroma of fresh flower mixed with the smell of cherries emanating from Bill, is getting stronger, clouding Stan's thoughts. He begins to move, thrusting in and out of Bill faster and faster. 

“C-cinnamon,” Bill managed to stutter out between thrusts. “My s-soulmate s-s-smells like c-c-c-cinnamon.”

Stan did not immediately hear what he was saying but after a moment he realized what was happening, freezing in place. Bill, his soulmate? Bill impatiently moves his hips, hinting that it is time to move again, and Stan feels whole galaxies explode in his rib cage.

“I love you, I love you, Bill, I love you so much,” Stan whispers in his ear. He kisses his shoulders, neck, face, trying to convey all his love for him through these small meaningless actions. Bill eventually grew embarrassed with all the attention and pulled away from Stan, face impossibly red.

“I-I l-l-love you too, Sss-stan, but I ruh-really n-need you to m-m-move,” Bill said, averting his eyes from Stan’s intense gaze.

And who was Stan to deny his soulmate?

Stan began to move again, slamming his hips inside Bill over and over again. He could tell Bill was holding back though, with the way he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing.

“Stronger, Uris, I'm not a girl,” he managed to spit out.  _ If strong is what he wants, strong is what he’ll get,  _ Stan thought, smirking. He pushes himself deeper into Bill and places Bill’s legs over his shoulders so that they’re almost face to face now. Stan knows exactly when Bill realized he wasn’t in control anymore and that moment was right before Stan started pistoning into him like a loaded freight train. 

Bill clutches at the bedsheets and lets out little  _uh, uh, uhs,_ every time their hips meet. The way Bill had surrendered to him completely, allowing Stan to do anything to him, made him speed up. Bill couldn’t help the moans escaping him, squirming against Stan, trying to push him deeper inside. Out of nowhere, Stan, like a hungry vampire, bit Bill’s neck, leaving purple teeth marks. He licked at them furiously for a minute and then pulled away from Bill’s neck, pleased with his work and the way Bill was red-faced and panting.

Stan brought himself all the down to Bill’s face, his legs still pulled up over Stan’s shoulders with Stan’s hands gripping his thighs. He brought his hips flush against Bill’s, bringing them as close as they possibly could get. Bill mewled loudly and Stan’s gaze snapped back down to Bill. He looked equally as surprised as Stan at hearing that noise come out of him.

“I-I-I’m s-s-sorr—“ Bill began.

“Don’t be,” Stan interrupted and, before Bill could feel even slightly embarrassed, Stan resumed pistoning his hips in and out of Bill. The noises coming from their skin slapping against each other was absolutely obscene, and the wet squelch of Stan’s dick slamming into Bill’s hole made both boys blush. However, Stan was more focused on the noises coming from Bill when he thrust against a certain spot inside him.

“Does that feel good?” Stan whispered in Bill’s ear. Bill could only nod his head and take what Stan was giving him as mewls and moans of pleasure escaped him. He was shaking like a leaf underneath Stan and he could tell Bill was close. Stan could feel himself getting closer and closer to his end as well, thrusts slowing down, feeling his cock grow heavier.

Bill didn’t even need to touch himself to come—as soon as Stan hit his prostrate dead on, he let out a high-pitched moan and long white streaks of cum poured out all over his stomach. His hole squeezed violently around Stan’s cock and it was like a domino effect; Stan dumped out thick streaks of hot seed inside of Bill, causing another orgasm to rip through his body and a couple more weak spurts of cum to land on his stomach.

Stan is the first to move and grab the tissue box on Bill’s nightstand to wipe him down. Placing the used tissues and tissue box back on the nightstand, Stan rests his head in the crook of Bill’s neck. Some hickeys have already started to form, making him faintly smile. He doesn’t want to leave Bill’s body but after some time, they both grow uncomfortable so Stan slips his dick out of Bill’s hole.

“Th-th-th-th-th-that w-w-w-was...” Bill tried to speak but his stutter was too strong.

“The best thing that’s happened to me,” Stan finished for him, tying the used condom into a knot and dropping it onto the floor near the bed. He laid down beside Bill, nuzzling his neck. He felt Bill giggling at the ticklish feeling of Stan’s breath over his neck.

“Th-th-that w-w-was a-a-a-amazing,” he finally stutters out. “I-I-I th-thought I w-w-w-was gonna die S-s-s-s-stan, i-i-it w-was s-s-s-so good..”

“I love you, Bill,” Stan says, voice muffled by Bill’s neck. All at once, Stan felt the exhaustion hit him. He moved his head onto Bill’s shoulder and started to wrap his arms around his middle, but Bill lazily pushes him off of him.

“L-let’s get dressed b-b-before w-we s-s-sleep. O-or else m-m-my m-mom and dad’ll h-h-have a h-heart attack i-i-i-if they s-s-see us like this.”

Stan reluctantly gets up from Bill’s bed. He looks at Bill, looks at his tangled hair, looks at his bruised neck, looks at his bare chest and finally stops on his ass, which is bent over, on full display as Bill gets new underwear for the both of them from his drawer. Suddenly, Bill turned around and blushed as he realized Stan had been staring at him this whole time.

“Hey, s-stop l-l-looking at m-me like that, y-y-you’re gonna get m-m-me all w-w-worked up again,” Bill laughs, hiding himself behind a pillow. Stan sighs fondly and leans in to kiss Bill. Bill smiles against his mouth and parts his lips to allow Stan’s hot tongue inside. The smell of cherries mixes with the smell of cinnamon, creating an unusual and exciting aroma, and Stan's heart beats like a bird in a cage. Because he is sure that the second time, although not now, will be just as good as the first.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed :>  
> Feel free to leave a comment, I appreciate them all! 
> 
> Idk how to link stuff here so this is the name of my Spotify playlist that I listened to while writing this: mindless self indulgence♥️
> 
> thanks for reading!!!


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